Chapter Text
Her hands are shaking as she enters the sept.
Nothing about this is going how she’s envisioned it for the last nearly year and a half. When her parents had agreed to an alignment with House Coulson, she’d made peace with marrying the eldest son, Steve. He was strong, and brave, and would uphold the family name well after Robert Coulson passed on. And she, eldest daughter of William and Lian May of Riverrun, was perfect to align two of the biggest houses left unmerged by marrying him.
Steve was kind- he’d come to Riverrun many times to court her in the twenty moons they were betrothed. She’d shown him the river she and her sisters had played growing up, and most of her family home, trying to share funny stories of the havoc she and her siblings had caused. He’d half-listened, she could tell, too eager to talk about his own warrior prowess, so finally she’d ceded, letting him talk. He’d won many battles, he boasted to her as they strolled, their escort in the form of her governess Janet trailing behind them.
The last visit, about three moons before they were to be wed, Janet had been called to tend to some mischief Joy and Laurel had caused- and Steve had kissed her. She hadn’t been prepared, and the kiss was harsh and abrasive, hurting her mouth and her upper arms where he held her tightly. He’d grinned afterward before darting off to join his party returning north, unaware of the discomfort he’d inflicted.
It had been Steve’s younger brother, Phil, who had asked if she was alright as she’d walked in a daze to see them off. She’d nodded, not really hearing him, but comforted by the soft touch of his hand to her shoulder as he’d squeezed before going to follow his brother to the horses waiting for them. She’d waved a hand in farewell, and only Phil had waved back- Steve had been far too concerned with starting a race with their youngest brother, Tony, to pay much attention to her.
But just days before Melinda and Steve were to be wed, a massive battle broke out far South, and Steve led the party with his best friend and right hand soldier, Bucky. She’d begged him not to go, but he’d shaken his head as he sheathed his sword, checking his armor was secure. He’d barely said a word before he was off, and she’d watched, heart in her throat, as his form had disappeared.
The morning of what was meant to be her wedding, Riverrun received word that both Steve and Bucky had been killed in the battle by Hydra soldiers. She’d expected the wedding to be cancelled, but instead her mother had come in, wedding gown in hand, to tell her she was marrying the middle Coulson brother.
“Phil?” she’d asked as she was stripped of her bedclothes and helped into the itchy, pale green wedding gown that Janet and her mother had spent the last six months making and adjusting. Lian simply nods, starting to work on braiding her long, dark hair back into a complex updo, common of the Southern territories. She cannot for the life of her remember what Phil’s face looks like- she remembers a kind voice, and a hand on her shoulder, but nothing more.
“House Coulson still needs our alliance,” she told her daughter, pinning another section of hair into place. “You will marry Phil, who is now the heir. He must go to war in two days’ time, so let’s pray you become with child in that time, to cement your union.”
Nausea rolls through her, but she swallows down the bile that rises in her throat. This was her duty- and she would live the House May motto as best she could tonight. Family. Duty. Honor.
She can see Phil’s form behind the gauzy wedding veil, and her grip on her father’s arm unconsciously tightens as they walk closer. He pats her hand once before they reach the dais, and Melinda steps up, standing across from Phil, the septon to her left. She takes a breath, and listens to the septon go through the traditional wedding vows, her heart in her throat.
Finally, clumsy hands pull the veil up, and she sees her husband clearly for the first time.
He’s plainer than Steve had been- a strong, square jaw and fair hair, but none of the captivating handsomeness of Steve. He gave her a shaky half-smile, and she squeezed his hands gently in hers, trying to quell the nerves lining her stomach as she looked at her husband. Her husband.
Melinda has no time to say anything to him before they’re whisked off to the wedding dinner- and in the Hall it’s too loud to have a real conversation amidst the music and dancing. By the end of a meal she barely touches, she has a headache pounding at her temples, and the hardest part of the evening hasn’t even begun yet.
Her mother and Janet take her to the wedding chambers to prepare, and her hands are shaking too badly to even take down her own hair.
“Do not be nervous, Qiaolian,” her mother tells her, batting her hands away and beginning to pull out the pins until her hair fell in raven waves down her back.
“Will it hurt?” she asked quietly as Janet turned down the bed, and Lian stops what she’s doing, meeting her daughter’s eyes in the mirror.
“Yes. But then it will be over,” Lian tells her, and Melinda uncurls her fingers from where her nails had been digging into her palms. “Soon it will not hurt so much- and eventually, you may even like it.”
Melinda frowns, but says nothing. She pulls the soft, blue nightgown on and settles on the bed as her mother and Janet leave. She’s never been more grateful they’d never upheld the tradition of the wedding night being viewed by others- at least her embarrassment will only be witnessed by her new husband.
She looks up at the knock, and Phil slips in, shutting the door behind him. He’s changed from his formal wedding tunic to a more worn gray one, left untied and sleeves loose. She tries to smile, but it must look more like a grimace because Phil settles at the foot of the bed and gives her a pained looked.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words her new husband speaks to her, and she looks at him in surprise. “I know you cared for Steve.”
“He was your brother,” she replies, shaking her head and reaching out until she can place her hand on his arm. “I know how much you loved him.”
Phil shrugged, dropping his gaze of his hands, and Melinda squeezes his arm gently.
“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he tells her, tentatively covering his hand with hers and looking up until he could meet her gaze. “I know I’m not- not what you expected, but I can provide for you, and give you a home.”
A small but genuine smile curved her lips, and Melinda nodded, lifting a hand to touch his cheek softly.
Perhaps I can care for him, she thinks to herself. Maybe I could love him some day.
“Would you like to lie down?” she asks, clearing her throat- it would be better to just get it over with instead of dragging out the awkwardness of the first bedding. Phil nods hesitantly, toeing off his boots before he crawls up to lay beside her.
They stare at the ceiling, shoulders touching, until Melinda leans over, curtaining her hair around them as she bends to kiss him softly.
His lips are rough with stubble as they share their first kiss- it’s clumsy, an awkward meshing of lips, but he’s gentle with her, a hand coming up to cup the back of her head. Fingers weave through her hair, stroking gently, and she sighs as she sinks down until he can hover over her.
Unsure but strong hands paw at her dressing gown until together they lift it off- she shivers, crossing her arms over her chest as she flushes, and Phil rubs his hand over her skin.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he promises, and it’s almost sweet.
Her entire body feels stiff, but she forces herself to relax as Phil sheds his clothes, his skin rough against hers. He touches her gently, as though afraid she’ll break, and she finds some of the tension leave her body as he continues to kiss her. She loses herself in the motion of his mouth over hers, her hands on his shoulders, and sinks into the warmth of his body over hers.
She closes her eyes, and concentrates on the kiss as his fingers pull her smallclothes off before he tugs off his own, and he gently pries her thighs apart. She forces her breathing to even as he aligns them, and bites his lower lip as he pushes inside. He keeps his thumb against her clit, rubbing gently- but even the soft pleasure of that doesn’t outweigh the sharp pain she feels as he settles all the way inside her.
Melinda breathes out harshly, tense in his arms- but Phil doesn’t move until she relaxes, her nails no longer digging into his back.
It takes only a handful of thrusts into her, Phil giving a low grunt before he finishes inside her- the warmth is unfamiliar but not necessarily uncomfortable, and she finally uncoils her muscles entirely as he moves off of her. Blood dots the sheets, and Melinda swallows- but before she can say anything, Phil is up, pouring water from the pitcher by the bed onto a cloth.
“Can I…” he starts, and she nods, exhaling quietly as he carefully cleans her up. He leaves the blood on the sheets though- their parents will look for it in the morning, a sign of the consummation of their union.
“You can sleep in here,” she says around a dry tongue as he pulls on his tunic- he freezes, turning to face her. “You are my husband, after all.”
Phil gives a soft, rough laugh, and settles back down beside her, though he keeps space between their bodies. Melinda rolls onto her side, back to him, and falls into an uneasy but deep sleep, warm from the body heat Phil radiated.
She awakens wrapped in his arms, heat flooding her body at the feel of him aroused against her. It surprises her that she isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as she thought she would be, and as she turns to face him, wakes him up.
“I’m sorry-” he starts, but she cuts him off, shaking her head. She kisses him softly, lips quirking as her hands touch his chest.
“We should…” she trails off quietly, but Phil catches her meaning, and rolls her underneath him once more. The second time isn’t much less painful than the first, but she finds she likes the little growl in Phil’s chest as he finishes inside her, and the flood of warmth isn’t as uncomfortable as she’d thought it would be.
Phil leaves to clean and change, and Joy and Laurel spill into the room.
“Mama said we could help you take a bath,” Laurel beams up at her, and Melinda smiles, stroking her baby sister’s hair out of her face. She hadn’t even had her first blood yet- still a baby, and Melinda would have to leave her for Phil’s home, Providence, in only two weeks time.
“So is it strange?” Joy asks as they wait for the tub to be filled with hot water from the kitchens, and Melinda looks at her curiously. “To be married. Do you feel different?”
Melinda thinks about it, rubbing at her chin, before she shrugs.
“I suppose,” she answers. Joy and Laurel both look at her in awe, and she shoves at them both, shaking her head. “Stop looking at me like that, I’m no different than I was yesterday.”
Laurel giggled, and they helped her out of her dress and into the water- Melinda sank into the hot water happily, dunking underneath to wet her hair. Joy rubbed scented oil into her hair, carefully soaking the long, dark strands, and Melinda wrapped her arms around her legs, chin on her knee.
“Are you happy, Mellie?” Joy asks her after a moment. Melinda looks up, lifting a wet hand to touch her cheek and giving her a soft smile.
“I will be, Joy,” she answers. Her younger sister leaned into the touch, and Melinda leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Are you gonna have a baby, Mel?” Laurel asks, and Melinda frowns.
“I might. Why?” she asks, and Laurel shrugs.
“Mama said you could have a baby after you leave for Providence if you’re lucky,” she answered, and Melinda groaned.
“Don’t listen to Mama, Laurel,” she told her, tapping her sister’s nose. “If I do have a baby, you two will have to come visit me, okay?”
Both Joy and Laurel nodded, and Melinda smiled, letting them finish the bath before the water got too cold.
Once she’d dressed and dried her hair, Melinda found Phil near the river, watching the water. She took a moment to observe her husband- he’d changed into a deep blue tunic, and when he turned at her footsteps, she found it brightened the already-stunning color of his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” he offers once she’s nearby, and she nods, smiling.
“My sisters and I grew up playing on these banks,” she tells him, and his eyebrows lift in interest.
“You can swim?” he asks, and she nods, amused.
“Can you not?” she asks, and Phil shakes his head.
“Providence isn’t really warm enough to swim, and there aren’t many rivers deep enough,” he tells her, and she frowns.
“Is it truly that cold?” she asks, worried, and Phil shrugs.
“It’s near enough to the wall there’s never truly a hot summer,” he answers as they begin to walk along the river slowly. “It’s nice weather though- it’s warm in the godswood year round.”
They continue to talk, and Melinda finds it far easier to speak with Phil than it had been with Steve- whereas his brother had spent more time boasting about his battles, Phil actually listened to her when she spoke. He laughed at stories of her sisters, and listened intently about her likes and dislikes when it came to food and music and dances.
Before Melinda even realizes it’s time for dinner- she sits beside Phil, Joy one her other side and Laurel beside Phil, chattering away the entire meal. Melinda hides her smile in her drink, but Phil seems content to listen, nodding and smiling. She watches, something warm filling her chest as he asks Laurel questions following her story about the kitchen cat giving birth to kittens a few weeks ago.
“I like him,” Laurel declares as Melinda helps her dress for bed later that night. Melinda smiles, smoothing the blankets over and bending to kiss her forehead.
“I think I like him too,” she whispers, drawing a sleepy giggle from her sister.
Phil is waiting in her chambers when she opens the door, and he jumps up, looking guilty.
“Joy told me I could wait here…” he starts, and Melinda smiles, shutting the door behind her.
“It’s alright,” she tells him, coming to sit beside him. “I like that you’re here.”
He gives a small, surprised smile, and cautiously takes her hand, weaving their fingers together. Melinda looks down at their fingers- his larger and calloused, fully encompassing hers- and finds it doesn’t look quite as out of place as she would have thought.
Phil takes her to bed again, and it’s not nearly as uncomfortable as the previous night, or the morning- she’s warm, and he is so impossibly gentle with her, hands roaming her skin with a little more confidence than before. It’s still vaguely unpleasant, but this time she rests her head on his chest after, palm over his heart as she drifted off to the steady beating.
Phil is awake when she rises to consciousness- his fingers are playing with her hair, and she finds she likes the unconscious, soothing motion.
“You leave today,” she whispers, and she feels Phil nod. Strangely, sadness fills her chest, and she swallows hard. “I don’t think I want you to go.”
“I must,” he murmurs, chest rumbling under her ear. “I have to honor my brother.”
“I know,” she replies, turning her head and propping her chin on her arm slung over his chest. Phil strokes a hand through her hair. “Will you write to me?”
“If you’d like,” he answered after a moment, surprised. “As much as I can from the front.”
“I’d like that very much,” she replies, and Phil gives a small smile.
“Tony and Maria will be waiting for you at Providence. They want you to feel at home, they’ll help however you need,” he starts, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I want you to feel comfortable there, Melinda. Make whatever changes you want, get to know the staff- please, make Providence your home.”
“I will,” Melinda tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing along the beginnings of a beard. “Just…come back. Please.”
Phil looks at her for a long moment before he nods, covering her hand with his.
“I will, my lady.”
_
The morning is spent preparing Phil’s party for journey further south, to where the fighting is. Melinda spends it with her sisters, but finds her thoughts drifting towards her husband more often than not.
Less than three days together, and he was already consuming her thoughts in a way she’d never experienced before.
“It is time, Qiaolian,” her mother appears in the doorway, and Melinda stands with Joy and Laurel, heading for the front gate.
The war party is gathered, most of them on their horses, but Phil is on the ground, speaking with her father. He’s in a tunic of blue and gray, his House colors- their House colors, she corrects internally- and he looks almost as handsome as Steve had been. His face brightens at the sight of her, and blood flushes her cheeks pink as she unconsciously smiles.
“My lady,” Phil says, taking her hand, and she squeezes gently as her mother and sisters give them space.
“Be safe,” she tells him, and he nods, squeezing her fingers back. “I will look after Providence and await your return.”
“And I will write,” he says, and she smiles, slight but genuine. “Goodbye, Lady Melinda.”
“Goodbye, my Lord,” she murmurs; Phil bends to press his lips to her hand, lingering a few moments before he steps away, heading for his horse. She presses her hand to her chest, as though she can preserve the kiss.
She watches him ride away with the rest, and finds herself hoping- praying- he’d come back.
Melinda spends the next two weeks preparing for her journey north- Joy and Laurel help her back her things into trunks, and her mother and Janet present her with a dress in her new House colors, made of a thicker material more durable for the northern temperatures. Her mother presents her with the fish pin she’d envied as a child, the May House symbol.
“It’s yours now,” Lian tells her, pinning it to Melinda’s dress. “To remember us in your new home.”
“I could never forget you,” Melinda protests, and Lian gives a small, soft smile, touching her daughter’s cheek.
“You will have a house to run and a husband, and children someday,” Lian reminds her softly, tucking Melinda’s hair behind her ear. “But write. Please. Tell us of your life in the north.”
“Of course, Mama,” Melinda answers- Lian smiles before she steps back. Laurel is holding back tears, clutching onto William tightly, and even Joy’s eyes are shimmering. Melinda steps into the carriage after taking a breath, and watches her childhood home become a dark dot in the horizon and eventually disappear.
The journey north is uneventful- it takes nearly three weeks from Riverrun to Providence, so she contents herself with the book Joy had given her, and composing a letter to her friend Natasha, who lived in the capitol. In the time it takes to reach her new home, she receives a letter from her husband.
My Lady Melinda,
I do not quite know what to write- I’ve never been very good at letters. But this was your wish, and my only desire is to make you happy. So, this letter.
The letter goes on to tell her about parts of his childhood- growing up as the second son, spending time with his younger brother and sister, learning to be a fighter. She smiles at the clumsy, crooked letters, obviously written by firelight- she can tell because parts overlap slightly in uneven ways, and she conjures up the image of her husband writing to her at night, surrounded by other soldiers.
She treasures the letter, and sends back her reply- a letter full of stories of her sisters’ mischief and growing up the eldest daughter of the Riverlands Lord. She sends it back to him with a messenger just a few days before the reach Providence, and hopes he writes back soon.
Providence is a well-sized, hulking household, with high walls and a large courtyard. Waiting for her are a boy and girl with dark hair- they can’t be much older than Laurel, and Melinda’s heart swells in her chest.
“Hi! I’m Tony, and this is Maria. Welcome to Providence, Lady May!” the boy says, before he frowns. “Wait. Lady Coulson?”
“You may call me Melinda. Hello Tony- Maria,” Melinda says as she descends from the carriage, smiling at them. “I’m happy to finally be here.”
“How was your journey?” Maria asks- Phil had told her she’d just had her tenth name day a few moons ago, and she lets the girl take her hand as they walk to the castle.
“It was fine- very long,” Melinda answers, pausing for a moment as her stomach rolled and her head began to feel faint. “In fact, I’d quite like to lie down for a bit, could you possibly show me to my rooms?”
“Of course!” Maria said, beaming up at her, and Melinda smiled around her nausea. “They’re right near where Phil’s are, he said he thought you’d like that.”
“I do,” Melinda answers, pleasure building in her chest as Maria guides her through the stone hallways to where her new chambers lay. They were in the heart of the castle- they’d passed the nursery on the way, something flip-flopping in her chest at the sight of it- and Maria pointed out where Phil’s rooms were as they passed.
“Here!” Maria called happily, opening the heavy wooden door and revealing a large set of rooms- nearly three times the size her room at Riverrun had been. “I can wake you for dinner if you’d like? We have a feast for you!”
“I would like that, thank you Maria,” Melinda tells her, touching her cheek gently and smiling. Maria beams, cheeks pink- she darts off as Melinda slips into the room. Shivers run down her spine at how cool it was in the halls of the castle, but as she stepped into the rooms, a heat swept over her. She frowned, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind her.
She knelt, touching the stone, shocked to find them warm to the touch. She would have to ask Maria or Tony at dinner what was causing it, but for now, she was too exhausted and nauseous to care about much beyond slipping under the furs on the bed.
Bundled under the furs, Melinda feels herself begin to drift off, comfortable and warm. She’s on the brink of sleep when she frowns, doing the math in her head, and she sits up, gasping softly. She counts back in her head one more time to be certain, but instinctively she already knows.
She should have had her moonsblood while on the road to Providence, but there had not been a single day she’d awoken to blood in her smallclothes. Her mother had told her to watch out for nausea and tiredness- both tended to be signs of pregnancy.
Melinda slides a shaking hand to her waist, swallowing hard as her heart races in her ears. She couldn’t be certain- not for another few weeks, that she knew, before a maester could confirm her suspicions. But part of her knew; part of her was certain.
In the short time she and Phil had laid together, they’d created a child. And now, all alone, away from her family, away from her husband, in a place where she knew no one, she was pregnant.
Melinda slides further under the furs, hands pressed tight over her stomach, and closes her eyes until exhaustion finally overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.